You Jump, I Jump
by Day.By.Random.Day
Summary: A Sherlock-Titanic crossover AU. Sherlock and John meet on the ship of dreams, but many obstacle lie in their way. A love story, of course.
1. Chapter 1

Sally Anderson stared silently out the small circular pane of 9 inch glass that separated her from the foggy, microscopic life-filled ocean outside. Her eyes grew wider and she smiled softly as the bow of the ship emerged from the deep black of the ocean.

"Seeing her coming out of the darkness like a ghost ship, it still gets me every time." Sally spoke softly, still gazing out the window. To Sally, the years of abandonment at the bottom of the world only made the great ship more magnificent. The longer it withstood the test of time, the more valuable it became, and the treasure inside ship was even greater.

Turning away from the wreck outside Sally flipped her small digital camera on and pointed it out the window, recording the great unveiling of the Titanic on the sea floor.

"Dive six, here we are again on the deck of Titanic. Two and a half miles down. Three-thousand, eight hundred and twenty-one meters. The pressure outside is three-and-a-half tons per square inch. These windows are nine inches thick, and if they go, it's sayonara in two micro-seconds." As she spoke, Sally turned the camera around to face herself, giving what she thought was her most serious look. But her feel of graveness was ruined with the interruption of her brother.

"And wouldn't that suck some major balls?" Gregory Anderson spoke from the other side of the small submersible they were in. Sally shot him a dirty look before grinning instead as she laughed and glanced out the window again. "It really would" she replied, shutting of the camera.

"But its worth what's down here" Greg continued, Sally nodded in agreement before turning her communications mike back on. "Okay, take her up and over the bow rail" She ordered as her sub and it's twin glided over the ship's edge and above its deck. Sally's grin broadened, and she ordered the boats to drop there small aquatic robots that would take the next step now as their small builds allowed for the crew to explore the ship with out damaging its interior.

"Come on Greg! Suit up!" she yelled back at her brother who was struggling to slip into the arms and hand controls of their sub's robot. "I'm getting there, chill your tits," he replied as he finally slipped into the controls and pulled the visual helmet over her eyes.

Once situated Greg maneuvered the little machine through the doors and into the hull of the ship. He glided it around corners and through tight spaces smoothly, all the while cursing under his breath. Sally's razor sharp eyesight scanned the screen in front of her, being videoed back from the robot's head camera, searching for something that could be it.

"Wait, in there," She said pointing towards a door frame they just passed. Her brother turned into the room which appeared to be one of the sitting rooms in what had been the first class suits. There was another smaller doorway at the corner of the room and Sally motioned there as the robot moved forward. "This is gonna be one hell of a tight fit" Gregory growled out as he began to squeeze the robot through the slim opening. Sally grimaced as she heard wood breaking around the heavy body of the machine but breathed again when the bot popped out on the other side in a small bedroom.

"Scan the room," Sally breathed, excitement in her voice as the notion that they might be near something filled her.

She loved this, exploring, looking for hidden treasure. Her interest in the Titanic had started out when she was young, listening to her parents stories of her grandparents Sally Donovan, whom she was named after, and Johnathan Anderson. Creators and engineers of the Titanic, along with their friend Gregory Lestrade, their family had been shunned by many who dictated their opinion off the basis that their grandfather was a main cause of the ship's sinking. But thats why Sally was doing this, if she could find one of the greatest treasures on this ship along with thousands of other relics, she and her brother would be able to improve their families reputation, let alone the money they would come into if they found their prize.

Sally returned to reality when she noticed a hard corner sticking out from under a wreckage of a door and a bed frame, the mattress long having disintegrated. "There, go there Greg"

Her brother did as he was told, hovering nearer Sally could see it was a box of some sort. "Okay now move that slowly." The robotic arms of the machine reached out in correspondence with Greg's movements and grabbed the edge of the door. "Carefully now," Sally hissed. Greg just ignored her, putting all his effort into flipping the door with out damaging the box and with a last quick flick of his wrist the door was gone and in front of them sat an ancients safe covered in barnacles and sea dust but in perfect condition. Sally grinned. "We hit the jackpot, boys!"


	2. Chapter 2

Cheering and chaos surrounded Sally and Greg as the precious safe was set down on the buoyant ship's deck. Water leaked from its corners and its door was sealed shut with sea grime but that wasn't a problem as a specialist cut the door of the safe off its hinges with careful precision. Sally's heart fluttered as the camera crews were set up and Greg appeared by her side with a bottle of champagne. Popping the cork and whooping in celebration with the others. This was it, everything would be worth it now.

"Here we go!" she said as the cameras were turned on and a chain attached to the front of the safe. It took a few seconds but with enough force the front of the safe was torn off, dirty brown sea-water emptied from the contents of the container. Sally quickly grabbed a pair of gloves and knelt down next to the safe, reaching around vainly before grabbing some of the paper lying at the bottom and removing it. Her heart began to sink as paper after paper, along with a bound leather case was removed and still no necklace. The praise immediately stopped as the rest of the crew realized along with Sally that the Heart of the Ocean was not in the safe.

"Dammit."She cursed, hearable by only her brother.

...

Sherlock sat at the window of his flat staring down at the bustling streets below, making deductions every second or so, before turning back to the hand-crafted violin in his hands, lifting the bow to the strings, and sliding it gently across. The sound it made was soft and gentle and Sherlock closed his eyes as the melody played on, guiding his old, spotted hands through the score.

"Papa! I'm home!" Martha Hudson chimed from the door as she closed it behind her. "Where are you?" Sherlock stopped his playing and sighed.

"In here..."

His granddaughter smiled at him as she passed through his sitting room on the way to the kitchen. He gave her a short nod and went back to his violin. _So it was one of those days_, she thought to herself as she dropped her bags of milk and biscuits on the counter, pulling out a plate to set them on. She re-entered the sitting room and turned the television on to CNN, before returning to the kitchen.

"Could you turn that racket off!" Sherlock shouted. "No Papa, you may not care about happening now a days, but I do, so be quiet while I get your tea and cookies ready!" Martha replied.

Sherlock glared at her through the wall before setting his violin down and turning towards the damnable telly. In his senile age Sherlock couldn't hear very well anymore, but his eyes were still sharp as he watched a woman, who's curly brown hair and sharp nose made her seem familiar, talk about something being found. The background behind her consisted of a research ship and the accompanying title running across the screen underneath her read "Discovery in the North Atlantic". This grabbed Sherlock's attention, so he turned the volume up to a point where he could hear.

"Here, for those of you tuning in, we have Dr. Sally Anderson speaking on her recent discovery in the North Atlantic seas, brought up from the wreckage of the RMS Titanic" an unseen reporter said from behind camera. _It couldn't be_, Sherlock thought to himself as her features began to fit into place with people Sherlock had known long ago.

"Thank you! So as some of ya'll know me and my brother have been exploring the wreckage of the Titanic for the past 5 years in search of many treasures that lay beneath the waters. We take care to preserve all the relics we bring up, for example over here..." The camera panned to a young man holding a container with a picture in it, who's resemblance made obvious he was the woman's brother, but furthermore confirmed Sherlock's suspicions, his face resembling that of his dead grandfather's to the tee. "Just yesterday we found this sketch, over 84 years old, and still in pristine condition," the woman continued.

Sherlock gasped as the camera focused in on a small charcoal drawing of a young man with high cheekbones and curly dark hair, laid out naked, to be admired by the world and on his broad chest dangled a jewel of worthy size.

"Papa is that..." Martha said from over Sherlock's shoulder as she stood there with her mouth agape, tray of biscuits and tea still in her hands.

"It surely is," Sherlock replied a bit breathless before turning to her and snapping, "The phone Martha! Get me the phone now!" Martha was quick to react as she set the tray next to Sherlock and grabbed the cordless phone from its place on the couch. Sherlock already had the laptop open and in his lap as his frail fingers skimmed over the keys, shaking whether because of excitement or just his arthritis, Sherlock didn't know.

...

Sally stood on the deck, watching as the submersibles were being lowered back into the chilly water. She didn't know what they were going to find, but the drawing they had found earlier that morning in the safe had encouraged them to try one more dive before shutting down for the night. The absence of the jewel in the safe had almost killed Sally but when the drawing had been revealed during its cleaning, with a jewel on the man's chest almost identical to the one she searched for, well it had lifted her spirits up a little higher.

"Sally! Sally!" She heard her brother shouting behind her.

"Yes?"

"Sally, there's a satellite call for you!"

"Greg, we're launching now. See these submersibles going into the water?" Sally replied irritably. It was probably just another head honcho calling to scold her on her great failure.

"Trust me, Sally, you wanna take this call." Greg said looking at her with pleading eyes.

"This better be good," Sally mumbled under her breath as she walked towards the phone.

"Now you gotta speak up, cause he's kinda old," Greg said handing the phone to her. She glared at him for a second before answering.

"This is Dr. Sally Anderson. How can I help you Mr...?"

"Hudson. Sherlock Hudson." Her brother whispered.

"Mr. Hudson?" she continued.

The voice on the other side of the line was a deep baritone and sure of itself as he replied, "I was just wondering if you had found the Heart of the Ocean yet, Dr. Anderson?"

Sally's head shot up as she stared questioningly at her brother, who only grinned back.

"All right, you've got my attention, Mr. Hudson. Can you tell me who that man in the picture is?"

"Oh yes," the voice responded with a chuckle. "The man in the picture is me."

...

Sally woke up bright and early that Thursday, her veins pumping with excitement. Her next lead to the Heart of the Ocean's whereabouts was going to arrive today by helicopter. After her phone call with Sherlock Hudson, a trip had quickly been arranged to bring the man and his granddaughter to the boat where he would further disclose his information.

She was still buzzing when her brother caught up with her on the deck, a look of annoyance on his face. Here to ruin her day as always, but not today, nothing was going to bring her down.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Sally"

"And why is that?" she replied as she turned around to walk up the stairs.

"You can't believe this?" Greg asked incredulously from behind her.

"And why not? You did."

"Yeah until I did research! He's a goddamn liar! Some nutcase seeking money or publicity, God only knows what!"

Sally's head turned as she heard the chopper and lengthened her stride to meet it before it landed.

"The only Sherlock on that ship, Sherlock Holmes, died when he was twenty-five right?" Greg questioned behind her.

"That's right." She replied.

"If he had lived he'd be over a hundred by now!"

"One-hundred and one next month"

"Okay, so he's a very old goddamn liar! Look, I've already done the background on this man all the way back to the twenties, when he was working as an actor. An actor! There's your first clue, Sally! His name was Sherlock Watson back then. Then he changed his name to Hudson, had a couple of children and settled down somewhere in North Dakota. I really doubt he would have waited till now to suddenly claim he was on the Titanic! This lead is dead!"

"And everyone who knows about the diamond is supposed to be dead, or on this boat, but he knows!" Sally retaliated. Greg didn't get to respond as the chopper finally landed and Sally bounded forward to meet her guest.

The door slid open and with help from Sally, Hudson and his wheelchair was lowered down to the ground. The man who sat before her, was old but his cheekbones, oh his cheekbones, almost made Sally certain this was the same man from the drawing. His eyes were sharp and almost clear in color as they analyzed Sally up and down, and she felt as though he was reading things from her she had never told anyone else. Which of course he was, unknown to her.

"Mr. Hudson," she said offering her hand for a handshake.

"Call me Sherlock," he replied grabbing her hand and shaking it, but not before looking it over once.

"If you follow me we can get your room set up and then we can visit the drawing," Sally said motioning for the hands on deck to start grabbing the man's large suitcases from the helicopter.

"My drawing?" Sherlock asked his eyes going distance for a moment before returning to a sharp focus.

"Yes, Papa, your drawing," The young girl, who must have been his granddaughter, replied as she guided his wheelchair in the direction Sally was walking. The girl, in a surprise to Sally, didn't look anything like the man whom she was caretaker for. Her hair was a bright red and her soft green eyes emphasized the roundness in her face. Sally assumed she must have been her mother's daughter.

When they reached his room Sherlock was quick to grab a small suitcase of the top of the pile, opening it to reveal a menagerie of framed photographs. Some of just Sherlock riding a horse, or standing at the top of the Empire State building, others featured a man of short stature and blonde hair, with kind eyes who was holding Sherlock in some form or other. Hands intwined or arms around each other you could see the love apparent in the relationship. _So no mother_, Sally thought to herself, further boggled at the relation between Sherlock and his granddaughter.

Sherlock set these photographs up, smiling at each one as it came out of the bag and Sally bit her lip as she wished the old man would speed up his reminiscing.

"Are you in a hurry, Dr. Anderson?" Sherlock asked still looking at his pictures.

"What? No, no, no, take your time."

"Just like your grandmother, you are."

"What?" Sally asked sharply, staring at the man who just raised his light eyes to her dark brown ones and smiled.

"Your grandmother, Sally Donovan, who I assume you're named after. I remember her quite well, irritable and fast-paced at times, but clever and good at heart. For you're grandfather on the other hand I cannot say the same."

Sally gaped at him for a moment before rounding on him, "How do you know my grandparents?"

"I _was_ on the Titanic, my dear," Sherlock replied. "And furthermore, I know that despite their great failure you always believed that your grandparents were right in their decisions. You enjoy adrenaline and confrontation which is why you decided to follow your families Titanic legacy and it may also be why you were once engaged, but he couldn't keep up with your goals nor aims."

With his deduction at an end, Sally could only stare as he placed his last frame upon the dresser before turning to her.

"Can I see my drawing now?"

...

Sherlock gazed around as the entered the forensics room, many relics sitting on the clear table tops ranging from old checks and notes to hairbrushes and small toys. He was rolled over to the center table where the drawing lay, stretched and pinned onto cardboard.

Sally followed behind, still recovering from the shock of Sherlock's accurate deduction, but decided to keep on a friendly exterior, even his bold and apathetic attitude was going to stop her from getting her information.

Before Sherlock picked up the picture though, his hand stretched out and he grabbed the pocket watch that lay next to it. He inspected it quickly before smiling at his granddaughter. "This was mine. How extraordinary! And it looks the same as it did last time I saw it…," Sherlock trailed of as he opened the watch to find the hands frozen and encrusted with sea salt. "Although the times have changed a bit."

Sally's heart softened a little bit at the sadness she heard in his voice and instead decided to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"So Sherlock, can you tell me about the day the Titanic sunk?" she asked kneeling down next to him.

"Yes," he replied, "Yes I remember it hit the ship late into the evening, and…and within a few hours the ship had sunk. There were so many people…" Sherlock once again took on an air of sorrow and his granddaughter squeezed his shoulder.

"Okay Sally, I've got the demonstration set up!" Greg called from the other room and Sally ushered the others to follow her into the other room. This room was much darker and was filled with screens depicting the video being sent back from the submersibles that were in the Titanic at the moment. Sherlock gave only a moments glance at the screens before being directed to a smaller screen with a digital replica of the fated ship heading towards the iceberg.

"Okay here we go." Greg said coming to stand by Sherlock.

"She hits the berg on the starboard side, right? She kind of bumps along punching holes like Morse code, dit dit dit, along the side, below the water line. Then the forward compartments start to flood. Now as the water level rises, it spills over the watertight bulkheads, which unfortunately don't go any higher then E deck. So now as the bow goes down, the stern rises up. Slow at first, then faster and faster until finally she's got her whole ass sticking up in the air - And that's a big ass, we're talking 20-30,000 tons. Okay? And the hull's not designed to deal with that pressure, so what happens? 'krack!' She splits. Right down to the keel. And the stern falls back level. Then as the bow sinks it pulls the stern vertical and then finally detaches. Now the stern section just kind of bobs there like a cork for a couple of minutes, floods and finally goes under about 2:20am two hours and forty minutes after the collision. The bow section planes away, landing about half a mile away going about 20-30 knots when it hits the ocean floor... Pretty cool, huh?"

Sherlock watched the digitalized portrayal of the sinking quietly until responding, "Thank you for the forensic analysis Mr. Anderson. Of course the experience of it was…somewhat different."

Greg looked somewhat chagrinned at being so tactless, _better reaction that his grandfather could have ever given_, Sherlock thought to himself, but was interrupted when Sally spoke up.

"So can you tell us what happened, Sherlock?"

Sherlock sat for a moment, his eyes glazing over as memories played across his mind.

"Can you remember, Sherlock? Just try to remember, anything at all." Sally asked gently.

"Do you want to hear this or not, Dr. Anderson?" Sherlock said snapping back as quickly as he had zoned out. Sally raised her hands in defense and took a seat in front of Sherlock as he began, "It's been 84 years and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used, the sheets had never been slept in. Titanic was called the 'Ship of Dreams', and it was...it really was."


End file.
